


Elsewhere

by Naji_Dragonchild



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Are Twins, Cursed objects, Curses, Established Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Established Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Established Relationship, Goth Deceit | Janus Sanders, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naji_Dragonchild/pseuds/Naji_Dragonchild
Summary: "At the end of the road where the village met the forest was another world."The couple living in the manor at the end of the street can't be human, Roman is sure of that.What human could have the entire village under their spell by simply leaving their estate?They're too otherworldly.At least until one of them dies.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman & Dark Creativity | Remus & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 12
Kudos: 21





	Elsewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tweet by DothTheDoth: 'As your goth husband I will adorn you with cursed artifacts then die leaving you to be the most feared widow in the village.'
> 
> Warning: obviously some character death, mention of suicide, swearing, nonbinary erasure (it's called out in the fic and very brief but still)
> 
> Enjoy!

At the end of the road where the village met the forest was another world.

Not literally, Logan would insist every time the topic came up and push up his glasses, careful with the tape holding it together over the bridge of his nose.

Literally, all there was, was an old manor, high and dark and mighty, surrounded by a beautiful garden that looked like it had been left to grow wild years ago and perfectly maintained all at the same time.  
The gate and stone walls keeping reality from reaching the lonely house were covered in poison ivy and raspberries, their thorns making it impossible to climb them.

As far as Roman knew the only people allowed in where the owner of the house, an intimidating man who could have been either 800 or 20 and rarely showed his face in town, if he did always wearing a black cape and hat, and his husband, who hadn't aged a day in the last five years as far as Roman was aware, because he was seen even more rarely that the owner.

If he were to walk by the estate one day and see a unicorn - Roman wouldn't be surprised in the least.

It was another world.

Even rarer than seeing the mystery man's husband was seeing both of them together.

It happened about once every second year when the fair came to town - or more specifically when a woman who was known among children as the Dragonwitch came.  
She sold jewellery, mirrors, stones, dolls and intricate woven gowns, most of which she warned customers were cursed.

Mrs Heller had bought a necklace from her two years before even though the Dragonwitch tried to convince her not to.  
A week later she had been found hanging from the church tower, hung by the pearls she had spent twenty dollars on, foreign symbols painted all over her pale skin.

Most people had avoided the Dragonwitch even before, but afterwards, the fear had become more real. The distance to her stand more important.

For everyone but them.

Every second year they stood by her stand, subtly watched by the entire village.

Every second year the owner bought something of her for his husband.

Every second year it was something she warned them about.

This year was no different.

Roman looked up from the book he was binding to watch them walk down the street, quietly talking as if even out here they were in their own little world, shared between only the two of them.

He caught the husband's words just as they passed him.

"Maybe he has that book you wanted to get, Janus," his voice was deep and slightly coarse. Roman nearly fell to his knees and begged him to read out one of the many hand-bound books he was selling or even a phone book. Anything to assure he could continue listening to that voice for hours on end and drown in every single sweet word all over again. "Which one was it again?"

Janus' - so that was the man's name, Roman realised - glanced over to him and Roman snapped his eyes back to the book in front of him, sure that he had been caught staring either way.

"Perhaps we can take a look later," Janus said. His voice was just as intoxicating, smooth as silk, wrapping around Roman's body, his neck and face, smothering his breath but he wanted more. "I believe you mean 'Gone with the Wind', darling."

They passed him and Roman looked after them.

He did have 'Gone with the Wind'. Bound in leather he had dyed black, made into a unique work of art with delicate cravings and small red gems. It was held shut by a silver clasp he had made with help of his brother. Remus had always had a way with metal.  
Not taking his eyes off the couple Roman pulled it out of the box under his stand and put it on the table where the light made the gems flicker like hellfire.

Janus went to the Dragonwitch's stand while his husband hung back at Logan and Patton's stand just in front of their sweets shop.

Logan was inside at the moment and Patton was clearly under the man's spell, eyes wide and unblinking, a fascinated smile on his face as he answered a question the man had asked.

He bought a jar of jam and chocolate.

Concord Grape if Roman wasn't wrong and dark chocolate with almonds.

With a small smile he turned away from Patton again and followed his husband to the Dragonwitch.

The entire town watched as they looked around her goods.

Janus eventually wrapped a black wool coat around his husband's shoulder, deaf the witches warning words that it would only bring death.

She still took his money and counted it as he gave his husband a slow kiss.

Roman forced himself to look back at the copy of the Jungle book he was working on.

He dunked a cloth in warm water and wet the leather to make it easier to crave.

His hand hesitated over his carefully laid out tools before he grabbed the one he needed.

Someone in front of him cleared their throat.

Roman looked up and found himself staring into deep, intense eyes. He could feel them pierce into his soul, the effect only increased by the black make-up around them, and struggled to swallow.

"Hello, can I help you?" he heard himself ask and prayed that Janus would answer before he rambled on about something stupid.

"I believe so," Janus replied and held up the book Roman had put out just for him. "How much is this?"

"Er... Fifty dollars," Roman couldn't quite recall the price he had assigned the book but it had been close to fifty bucks. Probably.

Janus paid and let his fingers trace the details Roman had put hours into.

"Are these fairy tales?" his husband suddenly asked. He was holding a thick book. It was one of Roman's favourites.

"Yes, it's a collection of different ones from all around the world," he confirmed.

"It's beautiful."

Roman felt himself preen under the praise.

"Thank you very much," he couldn't help but smile.

" What are you working on at the moment?" he asked on.

"The Jungle book."

The man smiled at him for a split second before covering it behind his hand.

Then they left again.

Left the fair and the village and reality behind to go back into their other world.

Or maybe not.

Roman wasn't sure how else to explain what happened next.

Maybe the book had been too much of the real world to take with them.

How else would Janus have died?

How else could someone so holy and damned, ageless and mesmerising just suddenly die?

Janus D. Seprent

At least that was what the headstone said his name had been.

The remaining Mr Seprent was wrapped in the coat they had purchased just a week ago.  
Maybe it was also responsible.

The witch had warned them that it would bring nothing but death after all.

Roman also recognised the choker he was wearing. Also cursed.

Just looking at it made shivers run down his spine.

The priest didn't talk long.

He had no idea what to say about what kind of person Janus had been. Nobody did.

If it bothered Mr Seprent he didn't speak up.

After the funeral the crowd dispersed slowly.

Not because they wanted to stay by the grave but because they all wanted to keep an eye on the other one.  
Wanted to see what he would do.  
If perhaps his funeral would follow soon.

For a long time he just stood there by the headstone.

Perhaps talking to it.

At least that was what Roman had done when they had buried Dad. He couldn't really imagine any other reason to stay by a grave for this long.

It started to rain and more people left to flee into the warm and dry comfort of their homes.

"Let's go," Patton said. "I can make us some hot chocolate."

Roman let his gaze linger on the man for a moment longer before he followed Patton and Logan to their shop.  
Remus said that he would catch up with them and went the other way.

Patton put a pot of milk onto the stove and Logan showed Roman a few of his books that needed repairs done.

Roman went through them making a mental list of what he'd need and how long they'd take to give Logan an estimated prize. He made it a little lower, friendship bonus and all the time's Logan and Patton gave him food for free at the back of his mind but didn't mention it. He knew Logan would object and that would only end in a heated debate since neither of them liked to give in.

Remus came an hour later when the hot chocolate was almost cold, covered in mud.  
He didn't tell them where he had been.  
Roman already knew not to ask.

If he was honest the death didn't mean much to him. He, much like everyone, expected his life to simply go on the way it always had if perhaps with a few fewer sightings of the mysterious goth.

However he turned out to be wrong when someone rang the small bronze bell hanging over the door to his and Remus' workshop even though everyone knew to just knock and come in.

"It's open!" Roman called and scrubbed at his hands trying to get the green leather dye off. He really needed to get some proper gloves instead of the cheap plastic ones that always ripped in some places. Preferably some that weren't as terrible for the environment.

Nobody came in.

Annoyed Roman shut the faucet and dried his hands on his paint-splattered jeans as he made his way to the door. He ripped it open and froze.

"Good day," Mr Seprent greeted him.

"Hello," Roman managed after a beat.

For a moment both just stood there before Roman remembered that it was his turn to say something.

"C-come in," he moved out of the doorway letting Seprent slip past him into the workshop and watched him take in the plans, half-finished projects and a few abandoned ones they refused to admit to themselves where abandoned.

Suddenly he wished he had wiped up the wood chips that had fallen to the floor and could be found on almost every surface, actually used the broom leaning against the closet that didn't close properly because they still hadn't repaired it to sweep, collected the tools and loose materials scattered all around the room and wiped off some of the paint stains.

"This is a very nice place you've got here, Roman."

The compliment caught him off guard.  
The name even more so.

"How do you know my name?"

Mr Seprent looked at him in surprise.

"There's a sign at the door. 'Remus and Roman's'," he answered after a beat gesturing past Roman in the vague direction.

"How did you know I wasn't Remus?"

"Next to his name is a mustache."

Oh, right. Roman resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall.

"So, can I help you with anything?" he asked instead, hiding his hands in his back pockets, not sure what else to do with them.

"Oh, right," Mr Seprent perked up. "You repair all kinds of things, correct?"

"I'm not much of an electrician but pretty much, yeah."

"Do you think you could repair a door? Or rather replace a broken one?"

"Yeah, I guess," Roman shrugged. "Depends a little how big and heavy it's supposed to be and if the doorframe is damaged in any way but all in all it should be doable."

"Great," Mr Seprent nodded to himself. "I guess you'll have to take a look at it then some time."

Roman tried to recall if there was anything planned for the next week or maybe where the hell he had put his calendar. Did he even still have it or had he lost it? Or had that been the one last year?

"Would Saturday be good?" he finally asked.

Mr Seprent nodded. "Yes, thank you. Until then, Roman."

"Goodbye, Mr Seprent."

The man froze on his way to the door and turned back to face Roman with confusion written all over his face.

"Why are you calling me Mister? You're older than me."

He was? Roman had almost expected the man in front of him to be centuries old.

"Then what should I call you?" he asked.

The man seemed to hesitate and turned back towards the door.

"Virgil," he finally whispered and the door fell shut behind him.

"Virgil," Roman repeated softly to himself, testing the name out and letting it roll over his tongue like a bonbon, eyes fixed on the door. "See you Saturday, Virgil."

His ring tone startled him out of his trance and he realised that it had begun to rain outside some time after Virgil had left. How long had he been just standing here?

It didn't take him long to find his phone, the caller ID 'Padré ❤️' lighting it up in the dim room.

"Hello?" Roman picked up and took a look at the small watch in the top right corner. Six pm. So that was why Patton was calling.

"Hi, kiddo! Where are you? Are you alright? Did something happen?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Roman shook his head and collected all his things he couldn't just leave here. "Just lost track of time. I'll be there in a moment.'"

"Okay," Patton still sounded slightly worried and guilt gnawed at Roman's conscious. "See you in a moment, then."

"See you," Roman repeated and hung up.

He pulled on his coat and stepped out into the rain.

Wind pulled at him and he hunched in on himself to protect his face.

He froze on the main street, looking at the iron gate that looked even more unreal in the fog than usually. The encounter with Virgil felt like it had been a dream. The prospect of actually going into the manor in just a few days... Impossible.

Roman reached the shop just a little later, Logan opened the door for him and Patton gave him an enthusiastic hug while Remus complained that Roman hadn't answered any of his texts.

Patton had made lasagna for dinner. It smelled and looked heavenly and Roman realised that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"So, why were you late?" Logan asked when Roman took his second serving. "Did you have a new project idea?"

Roman shook his head.

"No, I uhm... Janus Seprent's husband came by. He asked me to replace a door at the manor for him. He- His name is Virgil."

Patton's fork clattered against the table.

"What-?" Logan exclaimed.

"Did you accept?" Remus asked.

Roman shrugged. "Yeah, what else should I've done?"

"What if the manor is dangerous?" Patton asked.

"Don't be silly, dear," Logan cut in. "The Seprents have been living there for a long time. I doubt it's unsafe to simply visit."

"But one of them is dead now!" Patton argued. "And nobody knows why! And with all those cursed objects, it can't be safe!"

"Patton, dear, there's no such thing as curses. For most supposed curses there are perfectly logical explanations. The Dragonwitch likely claims her goods to be cursed to attract customers."

Roman noticed Remus staring at him out of the corner of his eyes but he ignored it.

"And how would you explain Mrs Heller's death?" Patton asked with a slight pout.

"Suicide, perhaps she was intoxicated in some way which would explain those symbols," Logan said dismissively.

"And how did she get up there to the clock?" Roman asked. "Only Brown has a key to the clocktower and if she was drunk she probably would've fallen before she even reached the clock fingers."

"I don't know," Logan shrugged growing annoyed. "I just know that there's no such thing as curses!"

Remus changed the topic by making a crude joke and they didn't bring the Seprents up again for the rest of the evening.

On Saturday morning Roman woke up earlier than usual.

It was still dark out and for a while, he contemplated getting up already but decided against it.

Instead he picked up his phone and winced at the sudden brightness.

It was at 34%. He had forgotten to charge it again.

He plugged it in and scrolled through his social media for a little while even though he knew it wouldn't properly charge while he was online.

Eventually a notification from his calendar app popped up.

A reminder of his appointment with Virgil. As if he needed one.

He still didn't know when he was supposed to show up but he had decided to go after lunch. That way they wouldn't have to eat together and he'd still have a lot of time to work.

A room over he heard Remus get up.

"Wake up, bitch!" he shouted as he passed Roman's door, banging his hand against it.

"I'm already up!" he called back.

For a moment he remained where he was before finally getting up and going to get himself ready for the day.

Remus was making french toast when he got downstairs.

"What's the occasion?" Roman asked jokingly.

"I just had this super hot dream! I was-"

"Ew! No! I don't want to hear it! Gross! Keep your sex dreams to yourself!"

Remus cackled.

"I wouldn't have told you anyway," he claimed. "Don't want another boner while cooking."

Roman rolled his eyes, half sure that Remus was lying through his teeth and had just felt like making french toast, and began to set the table, humming under his breath.

The curiosity over what the Seprents' house would look like from the inside had been following him for days but today it was stronger. Tumbling around in his stomach and jumping in rhythm with his heartbeat.

It didn't calm down as they ate, it didn't calm down as Roman set up the coffee machine to stain some pages of paper, it didn't calm down in the hours he spent dipping paper in the dark liquid before putting them in the oven to bake.

Since Remus had made breakfast lunch was Roman's responsibility.

He dug out some potatoes, mashed them, fried some fish and found the chilli sauce they'd thought they'd run out of, adding it liberally to the potatoes until it was enough to make them ever so slightly orange.  
Both of them liked hot food.

Unfortunately the bottle was now actually empty. He put a new bottle on the shopping list.

They ate, Roman packed away the leftovers and Remus did the dishes.

"Good luck with Virgey!" Remus called when Roman was almost out of the door. "Don't take his nicknames personal if they get a little mean!"

Roman froze.

"What?"

Remus didn't answer.

"What nicknames?"

Still no answer.

"Remus, I swear to god-!"

He wasn't actually sure what he was swearing.

Another beat of silence.

Roman groaned and closed the door behind himself.

"Asshole," he muttered under his breath and began his track towards the manor.

In all his years of living in this town, he'd never actually gone within twenty feet of it. Nobody ever had as far as he was aware.

The gate towered over him barely allowing him a glimpse at the wild garden behind it.

There was no bell.

For a moment Roman stood there, fiddling with the strap of his tool bag and looked around, unsure what to do.

"Hello?" he called weakly.

The gate didn't even look like it could open, ivy tying it together tightly.  
But then, how did the Seprents get in and out?

"Hello?" he called again a little louder.

Suddenly the vines tangled into the gate began to move.  
They pulled back and slowly but surely it opened, as soon as it was possible.

Roman stood frozen.

He pinched himself.

It hurt and he didn't wake up.

Not a dream then.

Cautiously he stepped through and the gate closed behind him, the vines taking their places again.

"I wonder how Logan would explain that," Roman muttered and took in his surroundings.

Small specks of light flew through the air and past the different flowers, trees and bushes.  
Some Roman knew, some he had only seen in documentations about exotic places, some looked like they weren't of this world.

In awe he followed the stone path leading deeper into the garden.

He passed statues and benches, pavilions and fountains, ponds and gateways.  
Part of him was itching to go through one, the other part feared where he'd end up. Not in this garden, that he knew for sure.

Finally the manor came into view.

It was a beautiful old building, towering over him with its towers, balconies and subtle but beautiful ornaments. He could only imagine what the inside must look like.

"There you are," Virgil's voice snapped him out of it. The man stood on the porch, lazily swirling a wine glass in one hand, leaning against one of the delicately carved support beams. "I was beginning to wonder if you wouldn't make it through the garden, Princey."

"What?" Roman tried to make sense of his words past the thoughts of 'Oh fuck, he's hot'. "Why wouldn't I make it?"

Virgil waved off. "Don't worry about it. Come in."

Roman followed him up the steps and through the heavy entrance door with iron fittings. If the other doors were this beautifully crafted... this job would be a lot more challenging than he had expected.

Something tugged at his sleeve and Roman turned to see what it was.

A thin wooden hand had extended from a coatrack and gripped his shoulder.

"What the-?"

"Give him your coat," Virgil advised. "He'll take care of it."

"He'll-? What?"

"The coatrack. He'll take care of your coat," Virgil took a sip of his glass. "As he's supposed to. Because it's his job."

Hesitantly Roman shrugged off his jacket and handed it to the coatrack. It pulled the jacket close and the long hand formed a hook.

Roman waited to see if it'd move again for a moment before hurrying to catch up with Virgil.

They went up a flight of stairs, covered in a nice golden carpet, down a hallway, up another flight of stairs, Virgil finished his wine, and into a big hall Roman guessed might be a ballroom.

There was a piano in one of the corners and a balcony overlooking the room. The floor was polished and smooth and violet curtains hung next to the tall windows.

Roman spun around a few times trying to take everything in.

The chandeliers, the stucco, the stained glass.

"Wow," he breathed.

"Isn't it?" Virgil asked with a slight smile and set his glass down on a table.

Roman tore his gaze away from the painted ceiling and focused on Virgil, who, in his black blouse, fancy jewellery and deep purple hoopskirt, fit into this room just perfectly. Roman let his gaze wander down and realized that he was casting five shadows on the polished wooden floor instead of one. He decided not to mention it.

"So, uhm what do you need me to repair - I mean, replace?"

"That door over there," Virgil pointed. "The wood is old and brittle. I'd rather have it replaced now before it breaks."

The door was as beautiful as the rest of the room. Waves and a ship with sail-like wings had been carved into it so delicately that Roman was almost afraid to touch it.

Yeah, it'd be a challenge.

He began taking measurements, as exact as he could, took photos of the design and inspected the handles and hinges, humming along to the song stuck in his head all the while. They were stained from not being polished in a long time but still good. He'd be able to reuse them. The wood seemed to be painted acorn.

"It'll take at least a month. Probably more. I'll have to see where I can get good wood first and the carving will be a lot of work."

Virgil nodded.

"Take your time," he said. "How much will it cost?"

Roman contemplated.

"Depends on how long it takes. My brother usually handles the financials so I'm not sure what prices we agreed on for this kind of stuff but I think about fifty for the door and... then something for every hour of work."

He cursed himself internally for not having noted down the prices somewhere beforehand. He should have expected this question.

"Alright," Virgil nodded again. "Thank you very much, then."

He leat Roman back through the house to the door.

The coatrack held out his jacket for him and Roman thanked him quietly, pulling it on again.

"You have a really nice house," he heard himself say.

Virgil gave an awkward smile.

"Thank you."

Roman racked his brain for something to say. Ideally something smart, witty or funny. Something that would make Virgil smile without looking uncomfortable.

"Would you like to join me and my friends for dinner tonight? My brother and I usually eat at their place. They're the ones who own that bakery and sweets shop. You bought jam of them on the last fair."

His brain caught up with his mouth a moment later and he almost cursed out loud.

Virgil stared at him in surprise.

"I uhm... If you wouldn't mind, yeah. Thanks."

"Great," Roman said. "...Is there anything you don't eat?"

Virgil seemed to think for a few moments.

"Human?" he then said.

Roman let out startled laugh.

"Yeah, none of us eat humans either. Don't worry."

Virgil looked slightly embarrassed.

"I meant, is there anything you're allergic to?" Roman attempted to clarify.

Again Virgil took a moment to answer.

"Er, what are those round orange fruits called again?" he formed the shape with his hands.

"You mean Oranges?"

"Yeah, those!"

"You forgot the name for Oranges?"

Virgil shrugged.

"Okay," Roman nodded to himself and opened the door. "Well, I should go then, let the others know you're coming."

"Wait," Virgil stopped him. "When and where should I even come? I don't know where your friends live."

"Oh, right. We usually meet at seven and... Do you know the street names in town?"

Virgil frowned and shook his head. "I only remember that the primary school was on Claire Street."

"Okay," Roman thought for a moment. "Then I could pick you up, maybe? It's probably easier than trying to explain the way."

Virgil nodded in agreement.

"Alright, see you at seven then, Sir Sing-alot."

"See you."

Roman took the same path back he had taken to get to the manor earlier. The gate opened as soon as he reached it and closed behind him.

The moment he stepped through he could feel all eyes on him.

People were watching him through windows, past corners and some without even trying to hide it.

Relief made his head swim.

He was fine. No curses. Nothing bad had happened. He was actually fine.

His knees gave out under him and for a few minutes he simply sat there before he managed to get up again.

The eyes followed him all the way to the workshop, where he dropped off his bag and to Patton and Logan's shop.

Logan had just brought a fresh batch of fingerprint cookies out and Roman swiped one muttering a 'Hello' and burned his fingers.

"Careful, they're hot," Logan said deadpan. "I take it, it didn't go well? Patton is making hot chocolate."

"Thanks. It actually went well. The door will be a lot of work but shouldn't be too bad. I just made one mistake," he put up his pointer finger for emphasis.

"What mistake?" Patton asked from the back. "What's wrong?"

"I kinda invited him for dinner."

In the kitchen a glass shattered.

When Roman stood at the gate again it was a quarter to seven.  
The vines were once again wrapped around both halves of the gate.

Maybe Virgil wouldn't come after all. Maybe he had changed his mind.  
That'd probably be for the best. Patton had assured Roman that it was fine but he had been anxious and antsy ever since Roman had told them. Logan was obviously displeased but likely just because he didn't like seeing Patton this nervous.

The gate opened.

"Good evening," Virgil greeted, tipping his hat.

"Good evening," Roman gave a small nod. "Let's go then."

He noticed Virgil looking around much like he himself had done hours earlier in the manor, all the while making sure to keep up with Roman.

Finally they reached Logan and Patton's house.

It was a simple two-story building with flowers in all windows and in the front yard.

"It's nice," Virgil said. 

Roman chuckled nervously.

He knocked and Logan opened.

He seemed to be sizing Virgil up for a moment.

"Good evening," he finally said. "Come in."

Roman had definitely made a mistake.

Virgil took off his shoes by the door and went to put his hat on the coatrack before deciding to keep holding it. Maybe it was cursed too.

"We made pumpkin soup with meatballs," Logan informed them as he went back to the living room.

Remus was already sitting at the table and Patton was just carrying in the soup.

"Ah, hello!" he greeted and set the bowl down. "I'm Patton and this is Remus."

"I'm Logan," Logan added.

Remus gave a mock salute.

"Do you like pumpkin?" Patton asked.

Virgil hesitated.

"I... can't remember."

"Can we just eat?" Remus complained before anyone could ask what he meant by that. "I'm hungry!"

Roman took his usual seat between him and Patton and Logan sat to Patton's other side, leaving the seat between to him and Remus for Virgil, who sat down with his hat on his lap.

The food was great and Logan had made apple tarts for dessert.

Remus spit out whatever thought his deranged brain thought off like he always did but it was obvious that both Patton and Logan were uncomfortable.

Virgil barely spoke up. He almost seemed shy actually.

Eventually, Logan turned to him.

"I'm sorry if this is insensitive but may I ask what happened to your late husband?"

"Logan!" Patton hissed. "You can't _ask_ that!"

"He never did manage to be on time," Virgil said absentmindedly. 

Logan frowned in confusion.

"I was referring to the fact that he's dead," he said.

Virgil blinked a few times.

"Oh," he then said. "Well, he's late from that too. He should be back by now."

"Dead people... can't come back," Logan's frown deepened.

Virgil looked at him, clearly confused.

"Of course they do."

"No! They're dead! Dead people are gone and stay gone. That's the whole point of being dead."

Virgil shook his head.

"He'll be back. He's just late."

Logan looked like he wanted to say more but decided against it, effectively dropping the topic.

Still, Roman couldn't help but wonder, even hours later as he watched Virgil walk back to the iron gate and go through.

Would Janus come back?

The question wouldn't leave him alone. Sometimes it faded to the background of his mind, while he was working or sleeping but it never left, always hanging just in the corner of his eye.  
It didn't seem too impossible after the self-moving gate and the weird garden.

Over the weeks he kept working on the door.  
He carved the wood he had found in the shack down to the right size, began marking down the carvings and working on the ship.

Let the scenery come to live under his fingertips until he could almost hear the sea in the distance.

It took him about a month to finish it.

Now the only problem was getting in contact with Virgil about it. He was pretty sure he couldn't just stop by unannounced and while Virgil showed up in town from time to time, but every time people closed the doors and locked themselves in. Even if Virgil wouldn't do anything to him, the people would become too afraid. They probably wouldn't even let him buy groceries anymore, not to mention buying things from him.

No. That wasn't an option. He'd have to find another way.

On the 31st of October, the mayor called a town meeting and Roman's plan to vote against the man on the next election cemented itself.

It was Halloween, for fucks sake! 

Remus refused to wear something other than the swamp monster costume he had made but they barely got any looks. The kids and teens that had come were also dressed up after all.

On one of the benches, with a wide radius of empty seats around him sat Virgil.

Roman felt a little sorry for him.

He had lost his husband just about a month ago, he had no friends and now people were avoiding him like the plague.  
As if he had thought the same, Remus headed straight for him and sat down next to him. Roman followed him.

Virgil greeted them with a shy smile.

"Hi, uhm... I finished your door," Roman told him.

"Ah, thank you," Virgil gave him another smile and Roman's heart sped up in his chest.

"Do you want me to come by like tomorrow or something to install it and stuff?"

Virgil nodded. "Sure, whenever you're free."

A few minutes later Patton and Logan sat down next to them. 

Patton was wearing his cat sweater and had whiskers drawn on his cheeks. Logan smiled at him absolutely besotten whenever Patton wasn't looking at him.

"I wonder what this meeting is about," Patton said.

"He better have a good fucking reason for this," Remus said. "I wanted to scare kids and give out candy! Not sit here and listen to politics!"

"I think holding town meetings on Halloween should be illegal," Virgil agreed with a frown. "It's the best day of the year. I was really looking forward to it."

"Me too!" Patton agreed. "I love seeing all the kids in their costumes each year! It's so fun! Don't you agree, dear?"

Logan huffed in defeat.

"I do enjoy seeing you this happy, starlight," he smiled. "And I will admit, it is enjoyable to come up with candy designs for the occasion."

Patton grinned and kissed him. "You can go ahead and admit you love it, babe."

"Yup, we all know, specs," Roman said. Behind him, he heard Virgil chuckle quietly.

Logan shot him a small glare but there was no real heat behind it.

A sound from the from the front caught Roman's attention.

The mayor climbed onto the podium and tapped the microphone sending a high pitched noise over the speakers and Roman winced.

"Hello Ladies and Gentleman," he greeted and outside thunder boomed.

Remus booed.

"What about nonbinary people?" he called. "They still exist!"

A small group of teenagers and the five of them cheered.

The mayor glared in their direction but ignored the comment.

"Thank you for coming here tonight," he continued. 

"We don't want to be!" a little kid in the front called. "I wanna go trick or treating!"

Again the mayor ignored the interruption.

"The reason I've called you here tonight-"

Before anyone else could interrupt the doors sprung open. They crashed against the walls and another crack of thunder, loud enough to drown everything else out, sounded.

In the door stood a figure, illuminated by lightning for a split second, their coat blowing in the wind.

Their boots clacked against the stone floor and the door fell shut behind them,

They took off their black bowler hat and threw it at the coatrack, hitting it dead on.

Janus Seprent marched through the hall. He wore the same shirt, dress pants and coat he had on his funeral and didn't even seem to notice the other people in the room.  
He reached their row and sauntered past them until he finally came to a stop in front of Virgil.

"Hello, my love," he said and Roman had almost forgotten how smooth and perfect his voice sounded.

"You're late," Virgil accused.

"You're absolutely stunning."

A smile and featherlight blush crept onto Virgil's face.

"You're forgiven," he purred, reaching for Janus.

Janus took his hand and sat down just next to him, pulling Virgil onto his lap.

"I missed you," he whispered and pressed a peck against Virgil's cheek. "So much."

"I missed you more," Virgil pressed their foreheads together. "You were gone so long."

"I'm sorry," Janus brought their joined hands up and kissed Virgil's knuckles. "Did I miss anything?"

Virgil hummed.

"We're getting a new side door for the ballroom. It only needs to be installed."

"That's good to hear," Janus moved on to pepper his cheeks with kisses.

"I made three new friends, I think," Virgil went on, placing a few pecks on Janus' neck.

Roman frowned.

Three?

He was pretty sure Virgil was talking about him, Remus, Logan and Patton.  
They were four people. Not three.

"Really? Who did you befriend?" 

"Remus' twin brother, Roman, the candy maker, Patton, and the jam maker, Logan," Virgil replied.

Remus' twin.

Why would Virgil phrase it like that, unless... 

Unless Janus knew Remus.

Unless it was three because Remus didn't count as a new friend.

Unless Remus had a hell of a lot to explain once they got home.

In the front of the hall the mayor continued but Roman wasn't listening.

He stared at his hands as the Seprents continued talking in hushed voices and showering each other in affection as if trying to make up for the time they'd been apart in just one night.  
The dead man and the cursed widower.

The cryptids who were somehow friends with his brother.

One of whom he had now somehow befriended.

There was more to this.

He could tell.

There was a lot more, hidden from him and kept a secret.

Roman liked secrets. But especially he liked figuring them out.

He could question Remus tonight.

And who knew if he could manage to get anything out of Virgil tomorrow?

He noticed a stare on him and looked up to find that it was Logan.

There was determination in his eyes, burning like wildfire, and Roman knew that he wasn't the only one who wanted answers.  
And between the two of them, there was no way they wouldn't get them.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot...  
> Could be a nursery...
> 
> Multi-chapter fic. I mean multi-chapter fic.
> 
> If enough people want it to be that is.  
> Or if I want it to be bad enough.
> 
> We'll see.
> 
> Have a nice day. Hydrate or die-drate.


End file.
